


A Prisoner for Now

by AriaDream



Category: Fate/Grand Order, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms, The Iliad - Homer
Genre: Achilles really hates him, Hector is clever, Hector is just plain nice, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Slavery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-10-05 03:16:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10296272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AriaDream/pseuds/AriaDream
Summary: Achilles has taken Hector alive and plans to explore his hatred for the other man in various ways. Hector is a very interesting person, though, as Achilles will find out. Will this go the way he plans? We'll see. Hector's character is based off Fate/Grand Order. Might eventually have more tie-ins to that, might not too.





	1. First True Meeting

“Why would you take this old man alive?” The voice, once warm and reminding Achilles of fur, was cracked and strained, aching with fatigue. Achilles smiled and reached for his wine, as he sat indolently at the edge of his chariot. The man in front of him was tied to it and kneeling in the sands. Achilles thought he couldn’t possibly get up. His lower left leg was lying at quite an unnatural angle. Achilles took a deep draught of his wine, hiding his own pain at his wounds. The ‘old man’ had not gone down tamely.

“I didn’t actually mean to. You dodged a lot, you craven bastard,” Achilles said casually and heard a wheezy chuckle. They both knew that hit and run strikes were Hector’s stock in trade. “Made me miss.” It was the truth, he’d meant to stab Hector in the throat. But in that last moment Hector had eeled away and taken the hit on his arm. Speaking of which. “How’s that arm?”

“Can’t feel it,” Hector admitted with a smile. Achilles wasn’t surprised. As he’d dragged the man behind his chariot he’d noticed the arm lying like a dead thing. “I think you got something important there. I might be crippled.”

“Not like it matters now,” Achilles said with a cold smile before sloshing his wine. “Would you like some wine?” he asked just to be cruel. Hector’s tongue went over his cracked lips.

“I’d kill for it. Don’t suppose you’ll give me any?” Hector’s gaze was full of longing and Achilles smiled before shaking his head. The other man sighed. “Didn’t think so.” Hector’s face was unguarded for a moment and Achilles enjoyed the quiet misery there. It wasn’t enough, oh no, not by a long shot. But it was a start.

“You’ll make an excellent hostage against your people,” Achilles said, again to be cruel. Hector laughed but it ended in a harsh cough.

“Oh come on Achilles, we both know you don’t care. How are you planning to kill me?” Hector asked with a smile and Achilles felt a great darkness welling up in his chest as he looked into that calm face. Hector was a good man. A good father, a good prince, a good warrior. And that made Achilles want to _crush_ him.

“I’m not planning to kill you Hector,” Achilles said softly and enjoyed the way the man blinked, unsettled but holding onto his composure manfully. “For now, though, I think we should begin with the traditional act of the conquered to the conquerer.” Although this generally involved a woman. From Hector’s mild bewilderment, he had no idea what Achilles meant. “I want you to suck me off.” It would get them started off on a nicely humiliating foot. Hector’s lips parted for a moment and he actually seemed to be speechless. Then he blinked a few times before finding his voice.

“If you want me to do that I need some wine.” Achilles was tempted to hammer the wine jug into his face. Did Hector think he could demand – “Because right now I haven’t got any spit. And a dick sucking without spit would have to be some kind of horrible crime.” …HAH!

“Well, well, a reasonable excuse. You are a funny man Hector,” Achilles said with a thin smile, considering the veracity of the request. Deciding it was close to true, he slid from the chariot and carefully pressed the wine jug to Hector’s mouth. He drank noisily, struggling not to get the wine all over himself when the speed of the pour was out of his control. Achilles let him have rather a lot before pulling the jug away.

“Ah, thank you. It might also help to be a little drunk,” Hector blinked owlishly and Achilles gave him a skeptical look. Surely that little bit wasn’t enough. “Quite an empty stomach I have.”

“Well, if it did souse you it would help with the moving part,” Achilles said as he took his place on the chariot. “Come here Hector.” Hector’s despairing look was eloquent but then he obeyed, groaning through clenched teeth as he dragged his sorry carcass closer. The broken leg dragged, making Achilles think of an eel. The sight of the once-proud prince about to pleasure him sent a pleasant heat to his groin and Achilles settled in comfortably.

Hector was an utter novice at dick sucking. That quickly became clear but Achilles found it oddly charming, as he grasped chestnut hair and gave verbal corrections. Hector did learn quickly, he would grant the man that, and his mouth was slick with wine and spit. Overall it was quite a titillating experience and Achilles was soon deeply involved in it, although not to the exclusion of everything else. He was aware of several warriors, including Odysseus, taking a look at what he was doing before taking themselves elsewhere.

Just before he came, Achilles harshly jerked Hector away so he could watch his cum splatter the prince’s face. It was a rare treat, seeing such utter disbelief on Hector’s face. The man stared at him blankly, white trails of semen dripping over his skin and beard.

“I… can honestly say no one has ever done this to me before,” Hector finally said, sounding as stunned as he looked. Achilles let go of his hair and enjoyed watching as Hector reached up with his good hand to wipe away a bit of the slime before staring at it with a kind of wondering confusion.

“You’ve never taken a man to your bed?” Achilles asked, interested. “Or just always fucked them yourself?” he smiled as Hector looked up, rubbing the semen between his fingers.

“I admit to never fucking another man,” Hector said, still vaguely stunned. Achilles’ cock twitched at the thought. “I thought of it a few times but it never seemed wise, being a prince and all.” Oh? “Too much favor to one warrior and I know myself, I tend to get attached.” Not likely to be a problem now. “You really want to rape this old man?” Psh.

“You’re not so old as that, for all your protests.” Admittedly, Hector was old for a warrior, into his forties. Hm. “Do you think that’s why you lost? Your age?” Achilles asked, smiling thinly. He hated the thought but knew it was probably close to true, Hector was a bit out of his prime. Hector blinked slowly.

“Well, yes and no. If I’d met you at twenty you’d have made mincemeat out of me,” Hector said after a moment and Achilles appreciated that. “We become cannier with age. I think my perfect time was roughly thirty-two, maybe even thirty-five. I’ve been slowing down since then. But you really want my body? You must have quite a lot of fine young men to pick from.”

“You might want to stop trying to wiggle out of it. My other idea is to torture you,” Achilles said casually and watched Hector swallow. The expression on his face remained calm, though, his brown eyes reflecting very little of his feelings. It made Achilles want to tear through that composure and see what sounds Hector could make in the grip of pain. Hmm… and in the throes of pleasure too, for that matter. It would be fun to break this man.

“I do wonder if I should have just bit you,” Hector said with a small sigh. Achilles snorted. He hadn’t been worried about that at all. “But I imagine you’d have knocked my teeth out.”

“Quite right.” He’d known Hector would make that (correct) calculation. “Well, we should probably get that leg seen to,” Achilles said before hauling the man onto his chariot. Hector nearly fainted when his leg caught on the edge for a moment. He did make a soft, strangled sound, almost a whine. Achilles enjoyed it immensely. “The arm too, for what it’s worth.” Achilles was fairly sure he’d severed something vital. The way it flopped around was a bad sign and he was willing to bet they’d eventually have to amputate. That was dangerous though and Achilles made a note to talk to the healers. If there was any way to save it, they should. He didn’t want his prisoner to die of blood loss or wound fever.

“I think it’s gone. But as you will,” Hector said, breathless with pain and his skin a bit grey beneath his tan. Achilles was a bit surprised he could even speak. He quickly set the chariot in motion, enjoying Hector’s heavy breathing, the tiny sounds of pain he couldn’t suppress as the chariot went over bumps, jostling that broken leg. As he listened, Achilles felt that darkness well up in his chest again, that desire to _destroy._

Hector was going to be so much fun.


	2. Learning Curves

Achilles vaguely listened to Hector’s pained groans as the healers saw to his wounds.

None of Achilles wounds were life threatening but a few were deep. The man who ran the healing tent, a fine philosopher and student of the human body, did his best to clean and stitch them. Achilles wasn’t worried about wound fever. His half-divine ancestry would put paid to that.

Hector did not have that protection and the healers were deeply concerned about his arm. Some wanted to take it off right away, which Hector took with a superficial calm. It was belied by the anguish in his eyes. Others thought the feeling might return if they just tied it into a sling and gave it time.

“What do you think?” Achilles asked his own healer, jerking his chin at Hector. The man glanced over thoughtfully.

“The main concern is infection,” he said after a moment and Achilles grimaced. Never a minor concern. “But that is also the danger with amputation. Deep as that wound is, I still think it would be better to leave it for now.”

“Then we shall do that. But you will watch it and if there is any infection, it comes off.” Achilles said decisively and the healer nodded. Then they were working on Hector, setting his leg. Achilles watched in amusement as Hector fainted, his eyes rolling back in his head as shattered bones were aligned. Poor bastard hadn’t even gotten any wine before they’d had at him.

Then it was done, though, and the healers set it well. They used wooden splints and tight bandages hardened with resin. Achilles pursed his lips, considering how to handle that. If he didn’t mind crippling Hector he could just ignore it. After a moment Achilles regretfully set the thought aside. He didn’t want Hector to lose the use of his leg as well as his arm.

Calling to a few of his Myrmidons, he had Hector carried to his tent. Then he had the unconscious man cuffed, a heavy collar of leather fitted around his neck. The chain attached to it went around one of the tent poles and would keep him from leaving until Achilles unhooked it. Achilles smiled thinly as he looked at the chain. It was magic, a gift from his mother and would only be undone by him. It went through the inside of the collar, too, and could function as a choke. Something he anticipated showing to Hector.

Even well, that would probably be enough to hold Hector in place. For a man with a broken limb and a useless arm, it was likely unnecessary. But Achilles did not want to lose his prize.

Hector was very handsome as he slept, Achilles noticed. His chestnut hair was thick and fluffy, his beard pleasantly shaped and fitting his face. His face was strong of feature, showing his age only with little lines. Achilles could easily picture him smiling and laughing, those brown eyes warmed with merriment.

Smiling, Achilles decided he wanted to see more. Hector was his slave, after all. Some of the clothing, like the surcoat, he simply pulled away. Other things he cut off. They were practically ruined anyway, badly soiled from the battle and Achilles planned to dress Hector however he liked.

The body that was bared was quite fine. Exceedingly toned, from nearly a decade of war. Also littered with old, healed scars, and Achilles wondered with a bit of hate if perhaps his cousin had added a few. The one truly interesting part of the scars was the line of what could only be burns, along Hector’s hips and perhaps his back. A heated knife? Achilles wondered when the prince had been taken captive before, that seemed like a torture wound to him.

The skin that had been hidden beneath the clothing was pale from lack of sun. The rest of Hector’s body was a warmer shade, kissed by Apollo’s rays. Achilles saw he had a thin line of body hair, decorating his chest before trailing down his belly towards the pubis. Achilles let his gaze rest on what was waiting there. Hector was neither large nor small, just a normal man. It was well shaped though, soft pink skin. Achilles rather looked forward to touching it. Lifting his gaze, he saw a line of heavy bruises along Hector’s chest, the deep wound in his upper left arm. It was sewn shut but still looked exceedingly ugly. Feeling nasty, Achilles touched the stitches before pressing sharply against the wound.

“…” Achilles blinked as Hector didn’t flinch or waken. “…Hn.” That… was not a good sign. Shaking his head, Achilles pressed his hands against Hector’s chest instead. A soft groan left the man as his eyelids fluttered.

“…” Hector stared up at him blankly for a moment and Achilles smiled at him before sliding a hand over bare skin, the dark bruises. Hector winced in pain before looking down. His eyes widened and his lips parted in amazement as he beheld his own nakedness. “I, uh… oh.” Achilles watched, fascinated, as Hector looked up, his brown eyes wide and full of apprehension. “You… were serious.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Achilles meant that to be a cruel taunt but oddly, it came out bemused. Why was Hector so completely lost by this? “Hasn’t anyone found you desirable before?” Achilles couldn’t believe no one had ever approached Hector sexually. Hector swallowed before pushing himself up a bit with one hand. Achilles let him, sitting back.

“Not much, to tell you the truth,” Hector said after a moment before grimacing. “I’ve heard a lot of times that I’m a wonderful friend.” Achilles watched, interested, as Hector shrugged a little. “Or like a beloved uncle… or worse, father. That’s when you know you’ve lost any chance with a woman, when she says you remind her of her father. Or things are going to get so strange you might want to run away.”

“What about men?” Achilles pressed and Hector coughed a little, looking away with a faint blush on his cheeks. “Surely you’ve had offers.” And men could be so much easier than women. “And you weren’t always in charge, prince.” Surely as a young man Hector had had opportunities.

“There was one man I… we kissed a bit,” Hector muttered, his gaze faraway as he remembered. “He was… was my whipping boy as a child.” Really? Achilles was surprised by that. “We grew up together, you know how it goes…” Yes, the whole point of a whipping boy was to avoid damaging a prince but still encourage good behavior through compassion. So the boys grew up together and it could be a very good deal for a peasant child, provided the noble child had a good nature. “But he died. Stupid, so stupid, he tried to be like me and tame a stallion I told him he couldn’t, not that one but he didn’t listen.” Hector’s eyes cleared and focused on him then. “When I was young it would have felt disloyal, taking another after him. When that feeling passed, well, I was part of my father’s forces and it just didn’t seem wise.”

“Spare me Hector. You have plenty of slaves,” Achilles said coldly and had the pleasure of seeing Hector’s lips thin, a bit of temper entering those placid eyes. “You could have just pinned one down and fucked him if you were as deprived as you sound. Or a woman for that matter.” Slaves couldn’t say no, it was part of being a slave. And sure as hell not to a prince.

“Hmph. No matter how clear I made it them that they could tell me no, they wouldn’t. And I have no taste for rape, unlike some,” Hector said in a low, angry tone. Achilles smiled before shoving him back. Hector grunted, teeth clenched tight as Achilles slid on top of him. Their groins slid together, cloth rubbing against skin and Achilles was pleased to see Hector looking up at him with suddenly wide eyes.

“Are you afraid, Hector?” Achilles asked, dead certain he was. Would the old man admit it?

“No,” Hector breathed and Achilles felt almost disappointed. That was the kind of bravado response he’d expect from most warriors but not Hector. “I’m terrified.” Achilles blinked, his lips twitching unwillingly in amusement. “I’ve heard good things about oil. I pray you have some?”

“You don’t seem to have much pride old man. Why is that?” Achilles asked, considering it. He did have oil of course but should he bother to use it? That darkness surged in his chest urged him to just shove the man down on his face and fuck him. It would be so easy. Hector laughed, a weak sound.

“That’s for younglings who want to snarl and kick and fight and likely get hammered for it. I might as well be a newborn kitten, for all I can do to you. I’d like to get through this without getting blood all over the place,” Hector said candidly and Achilles appreciated the honesty. “So oil, please? I beg you most sincerely, my master.” …

“You really don’t have much pride,” Achilles was so bemused that the dark feeling in his chest faded, for now at least. “Calling me master before I even demanded it.” He’d anticipated having to beat Hector into – wait. “Are you trying to manipulate me?” Achilles’ eyes narrowed, that dark feeling flaring again. Hector hesitated, mild panic flitting across his face. Achilles enjoyed it.

“I’m just begging for your mercy. Please, be gentle with this virginal old man.” …Virginal?!? The darkness blew out as Achilles laughed.

“You silly bastard, you’re not a maiden. And I note that you have a son,” Achilles said as he reached for the oil. He could pin Hector down and fuck him until he screamed some other time. Tonight it would be more interesting to hear him whimper in pleasure.

“I mean my ass is a virgin – ow,” Hector muttered as Achilles roughly inserted a finger. Damn, but it was tight in there! “Stings,” Hector muttered, his teeth clenched and Achilles couldn’t help but be amused.

“Oh come on, as if you’ve never had a finger up there,” Achilles said casually as he continued preparing the man to take his cock. There was a dead silence and Achilles looked into Hector’s face to see him looking deeply confused. “…You haven’t?”

“Why would I?” Hector’s expression was so open, so simply confused, that Achilles was sure he wasn’t lying. Achilles hesitated a moment before shaking his head, explaining even as he kept opening Hector with his fingers.

“During a dick sucking, it’s highly pleasant to have a finger up there.” Honestly, he’d thought everyone knew that. Hector’s expression, though, indicated he hadn’t. “Didn’t your wife ever do that for you?” To his amusement, Hector’s cheeks flamed.

“Um, no, she never wanted to suck me. She said it was dirty,” Hector mumbled and Achilles stared at him in bemusement as he introduced a second finger. Hector groaned a little at the pain, his brows drawing down.

“You two sound like the most boring couple in creation. Did you ever do anything that could be construed as remotely creative?” He rather doubted it. Hector was becoming embarrassed and a touch defensive.

“Hey, we liked it – ow.” Hector muttered as he took three fingers. “Oh I really don’t like that,” he muttered through gritted teeth and Achilles chuckled harshly.

“Learn to like it, Hector,” he advised, enjoying the sight of Hector swallowing, the carefully held back fear. Deciding he’d done enough, Achilles glanced over Hector’s legs before carefully arranging them. The problem was the broken leg, he didn’t want it jostled. Hands and knees was out of the question, that would put too much pressure on it. Gripping Hector’s cock, Achilles began to gently stimulate him. The man was completely flaccid but he could fix that.

It took a bit of work, but soon Hector’s cock was standing proud and erect in its’ nest of curls. Achilles was interested to see that Hector’s size increased considerably when he was aroused. Looking into the other man’s face, he saw Hector’s eyes were closed as he breathed evenly. What was he imagining? His wife? Well, if so that illusion was about to be shattered.

Achilles began pushing himself inside, gasping at the incredible tightness. Hector’s eyes flared open and he made a harsh, gasping sound, the fingers of his good arm abruptly digging into Achilles’ shoulder. He didn’t mind that mild pain, he relished it as he continued his slow slide into that well-lubricated passage. Hector was whimpering softly now, a strained sound that made more blood surge to his cock.

“You definitely feel like a virgin in there,” Achilles breathed in Hector’s ear, enjoying the soft shudders wracking his frame. “Incredibly tight… uh…” Achilles grunted before surging against Hector, burying himself to the hilt in that clutching heat. Hector’s pained gasp was music to his ears.

“Achilles… please…” Achilles was sure Hector didn’t even know what he was begging for. An end to the pain? Well, he wasn’t stopping but he’d give the old man something. Grasping Hector’s cock, he began stroking the straining flesh with every thrust. God, it was so tight it was hard to move!

Achilles soon became lost in the pleasure, the feel of those hot insides caressing his shaft. Hector gripped him so tightly, it was difficult to believe. And the sounds he made… as their coupling continued, Achilles heard a few involuntary mews of pleasure. Hector’s eyelids were fluttering, breath coming in hard pants. In that moment, Achilles thought he was breathtaking.

Suddenly Hector’s eyes flared wide and Achilles gasped as he felt those grasping insides tighten sharply. It felt like Hector was trying to strangle his cock! Hector suddenly tossed his head back with a garbled cry, his whole body tensing as he erupted, semen spurting messily from his cock. Achilles felt the splash of it and thrust jerkily into that unbearable tightness before cumming himself. The intense pleasure almost blinded him, sparks flying behind his eyes.

The moment passed, as such things always do, and they were both left gasping and sweat-soaked. Hector was looking stunned almost senseless, his eyes wide and empty as body jerked with aftershocks. Achilles found that expression particularly enjoyable and even took pride in it. He’d made the right decision, taking Hector this way for his first time.

“Oh, I… see why men do that now,” Hector murmured, finding his senses. Achilles chuckled before running a hand through sweaty chestnut hair and drawing Hector into a kiss. Oddly enough, Hector tried to make it tender but that wasn’t what Achilles wanted. He made it hot, passionate and bruising. Hector seemed confused but soon responded, returning the violence. When they parted, his lips were warm from the punishment. “That’s strange…” Hector murmured and Achilles almost asked what he meant but then decided he didn’t care.

“Get to sleep Hector,” Achilles ordered and Hector mumbled something that sounded affirmative. The Tamer of Horses, former prince of Troy, settled into the fleeces without a complaint. He didn’t seem to care about the mess on his body, a measure of his exhaustion. And Achilles was exhausted as well.

Too tired to care, he settled in beside his captive before drifting off to sleep.


	3. An Oath Made

Achilles woke slowly, feeling warm and comfortable. There was a pleasant ache between his thighs and he vaguely registered the presence of a morning erection. It felt very pleasant actually, he could almost imagine a gentle stroking...

Wait. He wasn’t imagining anything. There was definitely a hand on his cock, gently stimulating him. Opening his eyes, Achilles saw a face close to his. Hector was looking down at the cock in his hand and Achilles was struck by the thoughtful interest in his gaze.

"Hector, what are you doing?" Achilles asked evenly. Hector started a little, looking at him with surprised eyes.

"Well, I'm touching you," Hector said after a moment. Then he lowered his eyes for a moment before glancing up. "Do you like it?" That soft question was strangely arousing and Achilles swallowed. Then he frowned.

"Are you trying to manipulate me?" Achilles was beginning to suspect that Hector was a weasel, under that too nice exterior. To his surprise, Hector suddenly laughed.

"Oh Achilles, I'm the man with a broken leg and a useless arm. What else do I have left?” Achilles liked the honestly but he also had a dark suspicion that Hector had noticed that. Damned weasel bastard. He smiled, feeling the cruelty behind it as he reached out to gently cup Hector’s cheek. The former prince of Troy’s eyes widened with apprehension although his expression stayed calm.

“I’m going to hurt you sooner or later, Hector,” Achilles said softly and saw Hector swallow. That dark flame in his chest burned brightly and urged him to do it, to give Hector a taste of the pain that was waiting for him. “Do you regret what you did?” he asked mainly to see if Hector would lie. Mild panic flicked through Hector’s face and Achilles was sure he was trying to figure out what response would anger him more. There was no good response, after all. Hector suddenly squared his shoulders and met his eyes firmly.

“No.” Honesty then. Achilles lips skinned back from his teeth in a grin. “I thought he was you. He was good enough to fool me but not good enough to hold me off. I saw a chance to end the war and I took it.” Hector chuckled then, a cold, mirthless sound. Achilles could easily see the man who’d killed thousands of Greeks. “My only regret is that he wasn’t you.” Hector’s hand rested on his wrist and calm brown eyes met his again. “Is that the truth you want from me, Achilles?”

“Yes,” Achilles breathed. If Hector had lied it would have enraged him. Still… “He was my cousin and lover,” Achilles said and saw Hector’s faint wince, the way his eyes slid to the side for just a moment. But then they came back, calm and accepting.

“I thought as much. Is that why you’re using me this way?” Hector asked and Achilles smiled, the flame in his chest banking, for now at least.

“Perhaps. Or perhaps I just think you’re devastatingly attractive,” Achilles said and had the pleasure of seeing true bewilderment on Hector’s face. Amusingly, he didn’t think Hector was faking it. If there was one area Hector seemed to be a naïf in, it was intimacy. “I normally just masturbate in the mornings but you can take care of that if you like.” Patroclus had been an early riser, out of the tent when Achilles began to stir. The thought hurt, hurt cruelly but then Hector’s hand on his shaft distracted him from the pain.

Hector was good with his hand, but that was to be expected. Everyone masturbated, after all. Achilles closed his eyes, just enjoying the attention. He came to a climax quickly, grunting softly at the pleasure. Opening his eyes he saw Hector was examining his hand, coated in white fluid. Then, to Achilles shock, Hector lifted his hand to his lips. A pink tongue flicked out, tasting the semen.

“…Ugh,” Hector said, his brows knitting together and Achilles couldn’t help but laugh. Hector looked up with a sheepish smile. “Just curious.”

“Didn’t you get enough the first time?” Achilles jibed and Hector blushed. The pink hue of his cheeks was rather charming and Achilles pulled him into a kiss. Just like before, Hector tried to make it tender but Achilles was having none of it. A quick, passionate and bruising kiss later, he released Hector. The other man looked dazed.

“Your kisses are strange,” he murmured and Achilles blinked. Strange?

“I’m not your wife Hector. Things are different between two men then between a man and a woman,” Achilles said, bemused. “You were comparing me to her, weren’t you?” Hector’s blush spread a bit as he coughed. “Ah, I need to get going.” This was eating up too much time, enjoyable as it was. “Clean this up a bit, then rest. There’s rags and water over there,” Achilles gestured to a corner of the tent and Hector followed his gesture.

“Oh, thank you, I’ll do that,” Hector said vaguely and Achilles was confident he could handle that small thing. In fact, it would be good for him to move around a little even with that broken leg. He’d eventually need to let Hector out of the tent if he didn’t want the man to get flabby. Yet, that would be dangerous, Hector would always be looking for an escape. He’d have to think about it more when the leg was mended.

The day was full of battle and Achilles killed plenty of Trojan warriors. Whoever was handling the battlefield wasn’t bad, but he was no Hector. Still, the Trojan forces had one great advantage and that was the city of Troy. Achilles looked at those nigh impregnable walls as the sun was setting and wondered what they’d do about that. Starve them out? Without Hector to make their lives a misery, it might even work.

That brought his thoughts back to the man in his tent and Achilles smiled to himself. He still didn’t want to hurt Hector too badly, with that freshly broken leg. But he had an idea that would be nicely humiliating. Achilles couldn’t wait to see Hector’s reaction to it.

When he gave the order, though, the reaction was nothing Achilles could have predicted.

“I don’t think I understand,” Hector said after a long moment of empty eyed staring. Achilles wondered if his brain had been broken.

“I want you to praise my cock,” Achilles said plainly and saw Hector’s lips part in amazement, his expression utterly blank. “Talk dirty to me. Tell me how much you like it,” he said, enjoying it as Hector blinked rapidly for a moment. Then the Trojan prince spoke, his voice oddly breathy.

“I’ll… I’ll try,” he said and Achilles frowned. Try? There was no trying here. “Achilles, your… your cock is the surely the largest among the Greek forces,” Hector said and his voice was so strange sounding Achilles stared. He was expecting Hector to sound humiliated, disgusted by what he was saying, not so strangely choked and breathy. “It is truly a legend among… men… huk… heh… mph…!” Hector’s shoulders were shaking and now it was Achilles’ turn to stare in amazement.

“Are you LAUGHING?” That flabberghasted question opened the floodgates and Hector collapsed onto his side, gales of laughter racking his frame. Achilles couldn’t even feel any anger. All he felt was bemusement as he stared at the shaking, laughing man. “You silly bastard!” Gods but the man had a strange sense of humor. Hector looked up, tears in his eyes from the merriment.

“Sorry sorry it’s just too – sorry, I tried – “ Hector managed to wheeze out and Achilles shook his head, utterly bemused. Well, that idea was a miserable failure. Achilles slowly began to chuckle, appreciating the absurdity of the moment. Hector gradually calmed himself, wiping the tears away from his eyes. Then he smiled and Achilles’ breath caught in his throat. The smile was open, sweet and just a bit saucy.

“You know, I might be able to praise your cock better when it’s inside me,” Hector said before looking very surprised. “And did I just say that?” he said to himself and Achilles had to laugh.

“You crazy idiot. Get on my lap then,” he said and Hector smiled before carefully crawling over, taking care with his injured leg. Achilles gripped Hector’s ponytail, pulling him into another kiss. Hector’s lips were warm and a bit chapped, very alive and enthusiastic against his. Hector’s simple white chiton was easy to unpin, sliding away from pale skin. Achilles reached for his armor but then Hector’s hands were there, undoing the ties.

Armor slid away and Achilles was hit by the sudden illusion that it was Patroclus, disrobing him. Before he could wallow in the pain, Hector was kissing him again and it was too tender, nothing like the fiery kisses Patroclus had always graced him with. Suddenly, Achilles was glad of that even if Hector was daft. That beautiful fluffy hair helped too, particularly when Achilles pulled away the bow Hector wore. It was so soft under his hands.

“What do you do with your hair to make it like this?” Achilles suddenly asked and Hector pulled back, blinking a bit.

“Do? I wash it.” Why had he asked? Did Hector even know he had good hair? “Should I be doing something else with it?”

“I suppose not,” Achilles said before capturing Hector’s mouth again. Hector settled more firmly against him and Achilles could feel the other man’s erection, pressing against his stomach. That made him conscious of the ache between his own thighs. Hector was highly arousing like this, so warm and willing in his arms. He might have felt disloyal, but Patroclus was gone and Hector was a slave. It was right that he would take pleasure from his battle captive.

Achilles groped around and found the oil, using it to slick his hand. Too excited for long stretching, he hurriedly prepared the man on his lap. As he did, Hector ran a hand through his hair, catching the tie there and pulling it free.

“You have beautiful hair, like the pelt of a lion,” Hector murmured and Achilles wondered if that was a compliment or not. The pelt of a lion was very rough and coarse. “Tawny and gleaming in the sun, I noticed that the first time I saw you.” A compliment then.

“Yours is so much softer,” Achilles said before deciding there was enough oil. He pulled his fingers out and Hector breathed out softly before adjusting himself. “Uh…” Achilles grunted as Hector eased himself down, taking his cock. The tightness was still unreal, despite what they’d done the previous night. Hector was wincing a little, his breath coming out in tiny pants as he seated himself.

“Oh… it is very large…” Hector’s soft moan sent more blood to that straining shaft and Achilles gripped those sinful hips before pulling Hector flush against him. “Gods!” Hector shuddered, pain flickering across his face but also urgent need.

“Move…” Achilles ordered and Hector shuddered before obeying. The man on top of him began sliding up and down, up and down in a slow yet ever so sinful motion. Then he leaned back, resting his good hand on Achilles’ knee. Achilles understood the point of the new position as Hector made a garbled exclamation at his next thrust. Perfect stimulation to that spot inside? It appeared so. “Praise my cock now,” Achilles said, hearing the breathless note in his own voice. Hector’s eyes focused on him before his lips parted in another moan.

“Oh gods… Achilles, your cock, it feels so incredible inside me…” Hector’s words were broken by gasps and moans and Achilles found it incredibly arousing. He groaned as his rigid length was pleasurably tortured by Hector’s sinfully tight heat. The way he was moving his hips was just so good! “Heavy, big, uh, so big and uh… running out of words… big?...”

“That’s good enough,” Achilles breathed, before he could start laughing. Dirty talk was definitely not Hector’s strong point. “You are a daft idiot but so good around my cock,” he groaned and then considered what he’d just said. Hah, his dirty talk wasn’t much better than Hector’s. Then Hector bounced with his next thrust and Achilles lost any coherent thought. All that mattered was the body above him, the sweet heat gripping his member.

There were no words then, only groans and gasps as their bodies rose and fell together. Achilles kept picturing a different body though, stockier and shorter than the one riding him, with shorter hair… Patroclus name slipped past his lips in a moan as he closed his eyes. He could pretend, there was no reason he couldn’t pretend.

“Achilles…” The voice was wrong but the tone was right, so undone with pleasure. Then Hector was leaning down and catching his lips again as their fingers tangled together. It was too gentle though, too tender and Achilles roughly seized that soft hair, forcing their lips together harshly until he tasted blood. His own or Hector’s? It hardly mattered. Achilles heard Hector’s muffled cry as his hips jerked sharply, that incredible heat spasming around him. Wetness sprayed over his chest and Achilles forced down those hips, going in as deep as he could before abruptly finding his pleasure. The sensation of spending himself in that warm body left Achilles breathless and gasping. Looking up, he almost expected to see Patroclus above him.

Instead, though, it was Hector. Breathless, pink, his soft hair tousled adorably around his face and his lips red and bitten. Hector, looking so pleased with himself and Achilles wanted to kill him. His hand suddenly went around Hector’s throat and the other man’s eyes went wide as he was pulled down, the grip tightening.

“Do you think you can replace him?” Achilles breathed as Hector squirmed, the fingers of his good arm prying at his grip.

“No, of course not, I – kh…” Hector gagged as Achilles fingers dug into pale skin. “Ach… ill… es…” Hector gasped out and Achilles’ eyes narrowed for a moment before he loosened his grip slightly.

“I should kill you. But then it would all be over too quickly,” he breathed in Hector’s ear and felt the man swallow, his adam’s apple bobbing against his hand. “I want you to suffer and this isn’t suffering, not yet.” He was being too gentle, why was he being too gentle? The broken leg and Hector made him laugh but that leg would heal and the silly bastard wouldn’t manipulate him out of it forever. “Prepare yourself Hector. I’m going to hurt you.”

“Oh, I believe you,” Hector breathed and Achilles smiled, a dark, dark smile. “And as soon as this leg is healed I’m going to do my best to get away from you.” Yes, that was a given. Achilles blinked, though, as an idea suddenly came to him. Releasing Hector he shoved the man away. Hector landed on his back in the fleeces, pulling himself on his elbows before scooting away. His expression was calm enough but there was measured fear in his eyes.

“Tell me Hector. What would you do if I could arrange peace?” Achilles asked, knowing he was being cruel. Or rather, his whole idea was cruel but it would be such a delicious irony if he could induce Hector to put on his own chains. Hector looked mildly bewildered at the question. “What would you promise me?”

“I… anything I suppose, to finally see this war over and my wife and boy safe,” Hector said after a moment and Achilles smiled. “But how could you do that?”

“I have the ears of many people,” Achilles said casually as he ran it through his mind. Odysseus already wanted to go home and he was far from the only one. Of course, Hector’s capture had bolstered their forces mightily. Still. “If I start advocating for peace, others might listen.” Particularly since Achilles was their strongest warrior. If he threatened to pull out of the battle, many would take note. “But what are you offering me Hector?” he asked and Hector blinked several times before swallowing heavily.

“If you can do this, I will swear my loyalty to you for as long as I live,” Hector breathed, a shocked hope blooming on his face. “I just want them to be safe.” His wife and son and oh but Hector was right to worry. Achilles knew the nature of war and new Andromache would be taken as a concubine. If Hector was very lucky, his son would be enslaved. More likely he would be killed, slaughtered to prevent a future revenge.

“Then make your oath now. Say it Hector, in the gods’ names,” Achilles demanded and Hector swallowed again before squaring his shoulders and meeting his gaze. He was suddenly every inch the Prince, despite being naked and covered in cum.

“I swear, on the name of Apollo and Aphrodite, if you arrange peace between Greece and Troy I shall give my unswerving loyalty to you for all of my days,” Hector said and Achilles breathed out softly. For a man of Troy, which was supported by both those gods, that was a binding oath.

“I will do my best to fulfil that condition,” Achilles said before he smiled. It was a dark, cruel smile and he saw Hector swallow, his expression suddenly apprehensive. But he did not look away as their eyes met and Achilles could see he’d meant every word of his oath. That only made it more amusing.

Soon, Hector would more his slave than ever before.


	4. An Oath Fulfilled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Achilles had to hurt Hector eventually.

_Several months later,_

Achilles smiled as he looked down at the prone figure on the floor. Hector looked up at him, his eyes wide with apprehension and his expression pained. A hand rested on his belly, where he’d been kicked.

“Master, please have mercy on this old – gk…” Achilles grasped Hector’s neck, dragging him up like a child. They were nearly the same size, despite Hector being more lightly built. Yet, there was nothing the other man could do save pry uselessly at his hand. Achilles deliberately increased the pressure, listening as Hector’s breathing turned into an agonized wheeze. Desperate brown eyes tried to meet his until Achilles grasped chestnut hair and jerked Hector’s head back, forcing him to look at the ceiling as his throat was brutally compressed.

Then he decided it was enough, releasing Hector. The other man flopped the ground like a fish, gasping desperately for air. Achilles let him regain his breath for a few moments, then grabbed him by his upper arm. It was the dead arm and Achilles noted that the wound had healed well and the flesh felt normal, despite the lack of sensation. He dragged Hector to the bed, tossing him down in the fleeces.

“Hands and knees,” Achilles ordered, aware that he was already hard. Dominating his former enemy so thoroughly was a deeply sensual thrill. “Remember our bargain,” he said as Hector showed no sign of taking the correct position.

“You haven’t fulfilled it yet…” Achilles fisted his hand and Hector took the hint, although from the deep unhappiness in his face, he didn’t like it. He moved to his hands and knees, his head bowed and his naked body bared for Achilles eyes. He noticed that Hector had a very fine backside, well formed and inviting.

Achilles took Hector without any kind of lubrication, hard and fierce. At first the dry passage was so tight, it was difficult to move, but soon it slickened with blood. Sounds of agony were muffled, as Hector bit into a fleece to stop his shameful cries. He couldn’t hold himself up with only one working arm so Hector was soon on his chest, facedown in the fleece. Achilles gasped as those wickedly tight walls seemed to spasm against him, trying to force him out. It felt incredible and only encouraged him to thrust in harder, an urge Achilles easily gave in to. Hector’s pain filled sounds were barely audible, his head firmly in the fleeces and Achilles suddenly grinned, a wicked twist of his lips.

Grasping Hector’s hair, Achilles forced his face firmly into the fleeces. Suddenly finding his air cut off, the former Prince of Troy thrashed, trying to grab his wrist. Achilles caught Hector’s wrist easily, pinning his right arm to the side as he continued his brutally punishing thrusts.

_They say that a woman is tightest on the edge of death,_ Achilles mused as Hector’s struggles began to slacken. _I don’t know if that’s true of them or not but it’s certainly true of Hector._ The way Hector’s walls were flexing around him was glorious. It helped that the prince was trying desperately to find air and in his struggles, had accidentally met several of Achilles’ thrusts with his hips. Gods, it felt so good!

Achilles knew when he was in danger of pushing it too far. When the body beneath him was starting to go limp he jerked the man’s head up, hearing his ragged gasp. The sound that followed, an odd, high whine, aroused him even further. Achilles breathed heavily, taking Hector in a series of hard thrusts before he felt his balls tighten, the pleasure reaching a point. Grunting in pure pleasure, he spent himself in Hector’s body. The Trojan prince shuddered in reaction and quite likely revulsion, but Achilles didn’t care. What did the feelings of his slave matter?

They didn’t matter at all and Achilles savored the power and dark satisfaction of revenge. Was he done though? Sliding out of Hector he watched the mix of blood and semen gush out, staining his legs pink. Hector was shaking and Achilles grasped him by his dead arm again, turning him over. He could see the red marks on Hector’s throat that would soon be dark bruises. Achilles considered it for a moment before deciding it wasn’t enough.

Achilles drew back his hand before fetching Hector a ringing slap. Although calling it a slap was a bit tame. He hit the Trojan prince so hard his head flew back and blood droplets flew from his mouth, dewing the walls of the tent. Achilles examined the new red mark, smiling thinly as he saw the imprint of his fingers. It would be very obvious what had happened to Hector tomorrow.

Achilles released his grip and Hector slumped into the blankets, limp and stunned. He quickly began to regain his senses, though, shaking his head and gasping. Then he tried to crawl away, which was a rather sad sight with legs that could barely work and only one arm. Achilles didn’t allow it, catching Hector by the ponytail and yanking him back.

“You will sleep here,” Achilles said firmly and Hector made a soft sound that was almost a sob. But he settled into the blankets, facing away. As he did, he began to murmur something, so quiet it was almost inaudible. But Achilles had excellent ears, something Hector likely didn’t know. _If this is the price then I must pay it. Andromache, Astyanax, I do this for you. Father, please forgive me, I must do this. So sorry so sorry so sorry…_ Achilles shook his head before gripping a fleece and settling it over Hector’s shaking body. There was a strange tightness in his chest, almost regret. And yet, this was all part of his plans. Achilles settled down to sleep.

Hector would understand tomorrow.

* * *

 

When Achilles woke the next morning, Hector wasn’t there.

Of course, he was still in the tent. The magical cuff and chain around his throat ensured it. But Hector had left the warm fleeces and was curled up on the rugs, his chiton serving as a makeshift blanket. As Achilles looked at him, he saw a shiver run through Hector’s body.

“Idiot,” Achilles breathed before shaking his head. It was a natural reaction. Picking up the discarded fleece, he came to his feet and walked over to Hector, draping it over his body. Hector didn’t stir at all and Achilles decided to let him sleep a bit longer.

Leaving the tent, Achilles went to get some food for himself and Hector. It was very simple, barley bread and wine with handfuls of olives. Carrying it back to the tent, Achilles wasn’t surprised to see Hector was still asleep. Achilles roughly toed the Trojan prince. He woke with a start, jerking up before groaning in pain. Achilles saw Hector flinch as the motions pulled on his bruises.

“Breakfast,” he said before dropping a piece of bread and a handful of olives onto Hector’s blanket. Hector slowly pushed himself up, the fleece and chiton sliding down to pool around his hips. The bruises on his face and neck were livid, red and black and purple. Hector didn’t look at him, just staring blankly at the food. His expression was eloquent in its quiet misery.

Achilles got them both some wine to drink and dip their bread in. They both ate silently, Hector having a difficult time handling the food. Eating seemed to pain him and he stopped only halfway through, setting the bread aside. Hector drank the wine though, more than he usually did. Achilles was sure he was trying to dull the pain.

“You need to get cleaned up a little,” Achilles said and Hector looked up from his wine. Achilles had never seen him look so lifeless, his brown eyes achingly empty and his expression perfectly blank. “We’re going somewhere.” And while he wanted Hector to look like the miserable slave he was, he didn’t want him filthy.

“Yes master,” Hector said after a moment and Achilles noted the he didn’t ask where they were going. Well, he would see soon enough.

Cleaning Hector took a bit of time. Achilles unhooked the chain before taking Hector outside for a thorough bathing. A few female slaves, war prizes, were called to help. They gently daubed at his battered face and body, making the Trojan prince as presentable as they could. They were still working at him when a familiar and welcomed ally arrived. Odysseus paused for a moment as he saw Hector, examining the man with intelligent green eyes. Then Odysseus came to stand by Achilles’ side.

“An interesting statement, old friend. But are you sure it is wise?” Odysseus asked quietly as one of the women doused Hector with an urn of water while the other cleaned his back with a strigil. Achilles shrugged before smiling viciously.

“They should know what their beloved prince is going to, don’t you think?” Achilles asked and Odysseus gazed at Hector before shaking his head. “You don’t approve?”

“No. But he is your slave and it is your decision,” Odysseus said after a moment and Achilles frowned. The women were nearly done with Hector, helping the crippled man dress before rebinding his dead arm. Achilles wondered when they should remove that. Soon, if some feeling didn’t return. Right now it was just a hindrance. At least the leg had healed correctly. Hector would be able to ride a horse.

They mounted their horses and began to ride. On the way, they were joined by the other leaders of the Greek forces. Most were amused or interested by Hector’s condition. A few were disgusted and one, Ajax, was outright horrified as he saw what had become of the Prince of Troy. Their gazes met and Achilles cooly dared Ajax to make something of it. The big man bit his lower lip for a moment before finally averting his gaze. Hector, meanwhile, didn’t seem to notice the attention. He was staring forward blankly although Achilles noted that he was controlling his horse with practiced skill. Part of Hector’s brain was working well, despite his vacant stare.

Then they saw the walls in the distance and Hector suddenly jerked, pulling his horse short. Everyone came to a confused stop as Hector stared at the walls of Troy. There were a few shouts but it quickly turned to silence as they all beheld the wonder on Hector’s face. He blinked a few times before looking at Achilles.

“Are we…?” Hector said and Achilles nodded.

“I am fulfilling my oath to you,” Achilles said and Hector nodded slowly before kicking his horse back into motion. They all continued for a while until Achilles heard a strange sound. A breathy, wheezy chuckling? Glancing at Hector he saw he was right. The idiot was laughing?

“Have you broken his mind?” Odysseus asked as quietly as he could over the thudding of hooves. Achilles shook his head.

“No, he was like that when I got him.” Hector’s sense of humor was utterly bizarre. Odysseus looked skeptical but let it go.

There was a meeting area set up just outside the walls. Using it required a bit of trust from everyone. It would be easy enough for the Trojans to sally forth and fire arrows from the walls. It would also be easy enough for the Greeks to attack. But that was the whole idea behind such areas, trust. Achilles wondered how the Trojans would react when they saw the condition of his prisoner. He smiled nastily as he dismounted from his horse. By the laws of war, there was nothing they could do about it. And given the oath Hector had sworn…

Hector held his head high, though, as they went to meet the Trojan delegation. Achilles was pleased by the horrified looks the Trojan prince received, especially –

“BROTHER!” Paris, with his jet-black hair and too handsome face, tried to start forward. Two Trojan soldiers caught his arms before he could go far. “You’re alive! We thought you were… dead…” Paris voice trailed off as his gaze trailed over Hector’s face. “What have you done to him, you monster?!”

“Paris, I’m fine – gkh!” Achilles grabbed Hector’s chiton and twisted it harshly, choking him. There were cries from the Trojans but he ignored them, disciplining his slave.

“You were not given permission to speak,” Achilles said coldly before releasing Hector. He wavered on his feet for a moment before sinking to one knee, head bowed.

“My apologies, master,” Hector said and Achilles was pleased with the gesture. Even moreso the way the Trojans faded into confused silence at the sight of Hector obeisant before him. King Priam was very pale and that was one thing Achilles took no pride in. Tormenting old men was not something he enjoyed.

“We are here to talk of peace. Shall we begin?” Odysseus suggested and Agamemnon consented. King Priam also consented and things moved to the tables with refreshments waiting for them. As they took their places, Achilles evaluated everyone around him. With Odysseus help he thought it was quite likely they would manage to broker peace today. Menelaus was dead and everyone else was tired, so tired after this ridiculous, never ending war. Even Agamemnon, the avaricious bastard, was feeling the fatigue. Achilles was actually more concerned about the other side. Yet, the Trojans had lost Hector, a loss he was rubbing in with the presence of his slave. Would that incline them to see sense?

It did, after a fashion. King Priam was called wise for a reason and he was soon deep into brokering terms, managing to avoid looking at his son and heir. Hector was kneeling by Achilles side, a cushion protecting his knees from the dirty ground. He said nothing but Achilles caught him watching, intelligent brown eyes gauging the course of the peace talks.

“What of Helen?” Ajax was the one to bring up the elephant in the room. “Menelaus may be dead but she should still be returned to us.” It was why they’d come, after all. Not that half of them gave a damn about the too pretty tart.

“They will keep Helen,” Achilles interrupted before anyone could get started. He smiled lazily before resting a hand on Hector’s head. “And we will keep Hector.” A princess for a prince? It seemed like a fair trade. There was a sudden storm of protests from both sides but Achilles weathered it calmly.

“So you can use him like a woman?” Nestor’s voice cut easily through the turmoil and Achilles grimaced internally. The ‘wise king’ could be a nuisance here. “This is contemptible, Achilles. He should be exchanged for Helen.” Achilles still had an arrow in his quiver, however.

“Hector has sworn his loyalty to me in exchange for peace. He made that oath to Apollo,” Achilles said evenly. Apollo was one of the major patrons of the Trojan cause, they certainly wouldn’t want to offend him. “By the rules of war and consent of the gods, he is mine to do with as I please.”

“Hector…?” Priam suddenly sounded very old, confused and querulous. Achilles really didn’t enjoy it. He glanced at Paris and was struck by the odd look on his face, the way he was gazing at his hands. Achilles frowned, trying to understand what was going through the other prince’s mind. He was hiding something but what? There was a gentle tug on his leg and glancing down, he met Hector’s gaze.

“You may speak,” Achilles allowed and Hector looked at his father. When he spoke, his voice was firm and carrying.

“If I am the sacrifice for peace, I accept this gladly. Please, give Andromache and Astyanax my love and assure them that as long as they are safe, I am content,” Hector said before settling back, his face serene. That silenced everyone for a moment before there was a cough.

Finally, the terms were settled. The Trojans would keep Helen while the Greeks would keep Hector. Briseis was also returned to the Trojans, in exchange for some prisoners they had, men Achilles didn’t know. There were trade agreements and some land concessions, but it was all rather paltry for such a long war. Well, at least it was over.  As they rode out of camp, though, Achilles noticed Hector’s silence and the deep unhappiness on his face.

“Thinking about your future?” Achilles jibed. Hector looked at him, blinking before forcing a smile onto his face. It was all wrong, though, stiff and strange.

“No, not at all,” Hector said and Achilles stared at him, puzzled. What could make him so unhappy if not that?

“He saw the moment where Paris realized that he would be King,” Odysseus calm voice made anguish suddenly flash over Hector’s face. “And keep his lovely Helen as well. You happened to be looking at Priam so you missed that.” …Ah. That would be a very hard thing for Hector to see.

“Always knew my brother wasn’t much of a man,” Hector said quietly, looking away. “Always knew… but I still love him and now I fear for him.” What? “Our allies, they saw it too, and too many of them hold me in high esteem.” Hector reached up to rub his forehead, his gaze faraway. “I hope father lives long enough for everyone to forget.”

“It’s not your problem anymore,” Achilles said and saw Hector nod, sadness on his face. Achilles kept his thoughts to himself, but he wondered how Hector could be so concerned about his feckless younger brother. Paris and his idiocies had started this war and despite his bowmanship, the younger Trojan prince had gained no glory on the battlefield. How could someone like Hector care so much for him? Perhaps he’d ask later.

When they reached the Greek camp, Achilles didn’t bother to take Hector to his tent or chain him. They both knew precisely why… the Trojan prince had chained himself more effectively than any shackle. So for the first time, Hector was allowed to wander the camp freely. He didn’t really do much, just settled in by the fire with some of the other men. Achilles observed him a bit and saw him talking with some of the Myrmidons, smiling a bit. Everyone was treating the former prince politely, out of a combination of pity and respect. It seemed to lighten his spirits.

Deciding that was all to the good, Achilles began taking care of all the details of dismantling the encampment and getting the ships ready for the trip back. God, but it would be good to see his home again! He had no wife to go back to but still, it would be wonderful to finally sleep in silk sheets and see the sun rise over Thessaly again.

When he went to retire to his tent that night, Achilles found that Hector wasn’t there. A bit bemused, he went to find the man. He was still by the fire but now he was telling a story to the spellbound Myrmidons. A rather terrifying story, too, although Achilles wondered how Hector and Paris had gotten lost in the catacombs in the first place. Achilles let him finish before interrupting.

“Hector, come,” he said firmly and Hector nodded before pulling himself to his feet. Achilles noticed some of the looks the Myrmidons gave the man, mostly pity. It seemed Hector was already making friends. Something in his chest seemed to tighten at the thought. “You seem to be a good storyteller,” Achilles said as they walked and Hector made a soft humming sound of agreement.

“I like telling stories, always have. When I was little father beat me a few times for my fancies, as he called it, which was likely for the best. I learned to keep them mostly truthful after that,” Hector said before chuckling softly. Achilles was a bit bemused.

“So that story you were telling actually happened?” he asked and Hector’s smile was quick and bright.

“Oh yes. Mind, we were just a pair of silly boys, scaring ourselves in the dark.” That sounded right. “The rest of it was our imagination.”

“I see.” Achilles was sure it had largely been Hector’s imagination. Paris wasn’t smart enough to come up with half of Hector’s ideas. They reached his tent and Achilles felt Hector tense. Smiling, Achilles reached for the fibula holding his slave’s chiton in place. Hector looked away as he undid the pin, tossing it onto a nearby table before sliding the white fabric away.

_A beautiful mess,_ Achilles thought as he examined Hector’s body. He was handsome as ever but badly marred. The handprints on his hips, in particular, were livid. Sliding a hand down Hector’s spine, Achilles paused to rub the small of his back, hearing his breath hitch.

“You must be in a great deal of pain,” Achilles murmured with a false gentleness. He took a great deal of pleasure in Hector’s small shudder. “Go to bed Hector,” he said and heard Hector’s small exhale of relief.

“Thank you master,” Hector murmured before settling into the blankets as Achilles began removing his armor. Hector had to arrange his dead arm and Achilles frowned at the sight. They really should talk to the surgeons again. If they were going to take that off they might want to do it before the ships sailed. Or after they reached Thessaly? He’d have to see what the healers thought. Putting it aside, Achilles finished stripping before joining Hector on the blankets. He pulled the man close, noticing that Hector was already dozing off. Well, he likely hadn’t slept much the previous night. He had a very pleasant scent though, warm and a little musky. His hair was still caught in the back with a bow and that suddenly annoyed Achilles. He pulled it free, letting that warm hair dance freely around Hector’s shoulders. The man beside him didn’t stir, dead to the world.

Warmed by the body beside him, Achilles soon followed Hector into sleep.


	5. Shadows and Truths

“Get off your dead ass!” Achilles roared before dragging Hector out of the fleeces by a foot. It didn’t work very well. The silly bastard had a grip on the tent pole?!? How the hell was he managing that with one arm?!

“Noooooo… it’s too early…” Hector’s whine was just as impressive as his roar, in a way. Achilles stopped his attempts, glaring as Hector eeled back into his fleeces. In an incredibly short time nothing was visible except a single tuft of hair.

“You are not allowed to stay up that late again,” Achilles grumbled. Hector had been up half the night carousing with the men. Achilles hadn’t minded since he’d retired completely soused and uninterested in sex. Now, though, it was a damned nuisance. “I never knew you were such a lazy bastard.” Hector really was lazy. Now that his leg was healed, it was becoming obvious. He vastly preferred to avoid hard work and had to be pushed into sparring. Hector himself claimed that he wasn’t lazy, merely efficient in his efforts. Achilles was willing to admit there was more than a grain of truth in that. As fine a general as Hector had once been, he couldn’t be a truly lazy man.

He did a very good impression of it, though, and Achilles finally gave up. Ousting Hector from his nest of blankets wasn’t worth the effort. Shaking his head, Achilles left the tent.

“Couldn’t get Hector out of the tent?” Odysseus was sitting at the fire, smiling as he ate a charred fish on a stick. There were more fish on sticks available and Achilles took one, joining his friend.

“No. Wretched slave,” he growled, taking a bite. Odysseus laughed softly.

“Ajax isn’t up either. They were matching each other drink for drink and telling each other lies half the night. I’m only surprised Hector didn’t end up in Ajax’ tent rather than yours,” Odysseus said and Achilles blinked at the thought. His traitorous mind suddenly tried to picture Ajax and Hector naked together. Hector would be the one taking it of course unless… oh ow! His brain!

“You’re making my head hurt. Well, I’m glad he had fun,” Achilles said and oddly enough, it wasn’t a lie. Odysseus quirked an eyebrow at him and Achilles felt moved to explain. “He’s oddly endearing.” Hector was incredibly easy to get along with, mornings aside. Odysseus hummed softly, chewing on his fish.

“He makes friends easily. He would have been an excellent King. It’s something to be wary of,” Odysseus said and Achilles frowned. He understood Odysseus’ point. Hector was dangerously clever, charming in a daft uncle sort of way, and extremely treacherous in combat. And yet…

“There’s nothing to be wary of. If I were to die, his oath would pass on to my son,” Achilles said and Odysseus snorted before tossing the bones of his fish in the fire.

“Neoptolemus would have no use for him. Most likely he’d kill Hector out of hand,” Odysseus said and Achilles nodded. He thought so as well. “Which I suppose proves your point.”

“Yes.” Hector would get absolutely nothing out of betraying him in some subtle way. Then the object of their discussion stumbled towards the fire, rubbing his head. Hector looked green around the gills and his chiton was badly wrinkled and stained with wine.

“Ohhh, going to… uh…” Hector paused to be noisily sick on the ground. Achilles shook his head sadly. Was this the man they were actually concerned about?

“Want a fish?” Odysseus offered one to Hector, who lifted his head, took a brief, horrified look at the seared fish and then was sick again. Odysseus laughed and Achilles chuckled. Yes, it was cruel to be amused at Hector’s suffering. Still, it was funny. Hector finally managed to make it to the fire and collapsed on one of the logs beside it. Odysseus offered him some water, which he drank noisily.

“I was about to say you can’t stay up that late again, but now I don’t think I have to,” Achilles commented as he watched the miserable man. Hector’s hands were shaking. Hector blinked several times before managing to focus on him.

“No. You know the problem with wine? When you’ve had a bit of it you want more. And before you know it, this happens,” he said before running a shaking hand over his face. “I’ll never do this again… until I forget.” HAH! Achilles barked a laugh, surprised by the honesty. Hector dropped his hand, giving them both a wan smile. “That’s how it always works.”

“Too true – oh look, your fellow wine victim,” Odysseus said and Achilles turned his head to see Ajax stumbling over. He looked almost as hung over as Hector. Not as sick though, more grumpy and under the weather.

“What happened last night? I can’t even remember,” Ajax grumbled, squinting up at the sun.

“You had fun with Hector all night,” Odysseus supplied and Ajax blinked before taking a fish.

“Really? I don’t usually do that,” he said vaguely and Achilles snorted as Hector looked hurt.

“We were just telling stories and drinking wine!” Hector protested as everyone laughed. “I’m not a wine jug getting passed around you know!” Oh that was just too easy. Achilles took the invitation, sliding an arm around Hector and pulling him close as the Trojan prince stared at him wide eyed.

“No, you’re only mine,” Achilles purred before forcing Hector into a kiss. It was passionate and hot, full of tongues and teeth and Hector was very pink when he pulled away.

“Achilles… stop embarrassing this old man…” Hector slumped as everyone around the fire laughed. Achilles grinned as Hector put a hand over his face, hiding his shame.

“I would like to do more than embarrass you,” Achilles said before running a hand through that lovely, silky hair. The chestnut shade seemed particularly vibrant today, in the bright light of the sun. Achilles slid his hand down Hector’s back and pulled him close, breathing into his ear and feeling Hector tremble. “I would like to take you back to my tent and make you scream like a bitch in heat,” Achilles breathed, feeling Hector go still for a moment.

“I only wish that could happen.” Why couldn’t it? “But I think I’d be more likely to puke all over you.” Achilles blinked at the image. Surely not.

“Oh look, a dog is eating Hector’s vomit,” Odysseus said conversationally and Hector jolted away. Achilles didn’t try to hold him and was glad of it as Hector threw up into the fire. “Hey now! We’re cooking our fish there!” That made the paroxysm worse, if anything.

“Nevermind,” Achilles muttered. An early morning frolic was out of the question. “Hector, go back to the tent and try to sleep, you’re a damned mess.” Achilles glanced towards Ajax. He wasn’t suffering as much but he was also larger than Hector, by quite a bit. Hector groaned before moving back from the fire, rubbing his face.

“Yes, you’re right, I just thought I needed some air…” Hector said vaguely before shuffling off. Achilles shook his head and put his slave out of mind as he pulled himself to his feet. He needed to get to work.

There was plenty to do to get them ready to go back home.

* * *

 

“You should put me to work.”

“Oh, I am,” Achilles murmured before kissing a line along Hector’s neck and shoulder, pausing to gently mouth the skin. They were in his tent, in his blankets and he fully intended to make use of his slave. Then a hand was pushing on his face, to his irritation.

“Not like that! Or rather, not only like that,” Hector amended so quickly Achilles didn’t even manage to scowl. Instead, he cocked an eyebrow at his captive. Hector was naked and a bit flushed but concentrating on what he was saying. “It’s stupid not to use me. I’ve sworn my loyalty to you and you know I’d never break that vow. Why aren’t you putting me to work organizing the ships?”

“…” Achilles stopped, just staring at Hector for a moment. Brown eyes met his, firm and calm and Achilles had to admit that it made perfect sense. “I… just didn’t think of it.” And now he felt a little stupid. Why was he working so hard and shouldering so much of a burden when he had Hector right here beside him? Hector suddenly chuckled, a soft sound.

“I wondered if that was it. Not the usual thing to think of, is it, trusting a slave with such tasks? But I meant what I said,” Hector said before smiling. It was a slightly brittle smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “And I was our greatest general, after all.”

“Mmm,” Achilles hummed softly, going back to his attentions. Hector had healed well, in just a week, and his skin was silky smooth. “I admit, it would be nice to get off this beach in a month.” That seemed a while but it wasn’t, when they were in the midst of gathering supplies and getting all their crap organized. Not to mention some imbeciles gumming up the works. “Can you talk to Nestor for me?” God he was sick to death of the old man and his stories! Hector laughed softly.

“If you want me to, I wouldn’t mind.” What, really? “He’s a good storyteller, you just have to know how to get him going on something interesting rather than something utterly dull.”

“HAH!” That did sound like the kind of thing Hector would easily manage. “It sounds like you’ve spent some time with him,” Achilles observed and Hector nodded, a bit of resignation crossing his face.

“I always seemed to spend time entertaining the old men while Paris was entertaining the young girls,” Hector said, his tone wry and Achilles shifted a little, pulling Hector a bit more firmly against his lap. The cleft of his ass caressed his erection, a very pleasant feeling. “That’s interesting…” Hector’s voice held a bit of tension though, just a trace of fear. It had been like that since the night before the peace talks. “I think I’m too nice to them. Just don’t have the heart to be unkind.”

“Well you’re entertaining me right now and I’m far from an old man,” Achilles breathed, nuzzling Hector’s cheek. Hector trembled slightly and Achilles reached in front of him to find that the naked man was half-hard. He began correcting that with gentle but firm strokes of his hand. Hector made a sound somewhere between a gasp and a whimper. Such a sweet little sound. “You enjoy this, don’t you?”

“Some… times…” Hector’s voice was very quiet and Achilles felt a small shiver run through him. Suddenly, he dearly wanted to feel Hector’s body around him. Reaching for the oil, he began preparing the man in his lap. Hector shuddered, gripping Achilles’ knee with his good hand. The other arm was still in a sling. The healers thought it would be better to remove it in Thessaly, where better conditions were available.

Hector had healed completely from that night and his inner walls were soft and pliant, as Achilles carefully spread the oil. Not as tight as they’d once been, but that was to be expected. When he introduced three fingers Hector was breathing heavily, but not from pain.

Then Achilles was easing Hector down onto his cock. His back was as beautiful as the rest of him and Achilles ran his hands over it, enjoying the feel of those muscles under his palms. But what he enjoyed more than anything else was the way Hector’s body encased him. Definitely not as tight as it had been, but there was nothing surprising about that. Patroclus had changed that way…

Hector’s hand slid behind his thighs and Achilles gasped as his testicles were cupped and stroked. Achilles reached in front of Hector and stroked his cock with one hand, gripping his hip with the other as he began to push up into that warmth. Achilles felt Hector shiver, heard his soft moan and knew he was feeling pleasure. Achilles increased the pressure of his grip, thumbing the head of his cock.

“Apollo… ah…” Hector’s voice was breathy and full of lust. Achilles laughed before gasping as he felt a particularly delicious quiver around him.

“Should be Aphrodite… you idiot…” Although there was nothing of love in this, only lust. Still, she was the goddess of that too wasn’t she? Hector suddenly laughed.

“Call a woman’s name when we… uh…!” Hector moved his hips of his own volition and Achilles shuddered at the sinful motion, the way he was meeting his thrusts and deepening the penetration. Gods above he felt so good in there. “Achilles…!”

“Ah. Yes, that’s better. Say my name…” That was perfect. Achilles suddenly had an idea and acted on it, wrapping one arm around Hector’s chest and pulling him back against him. A strangled gasp left him and Achilles felt the body in his grip jerk violently as his next thrust hit Hector’s prostate squarely. He enhanced it with his other hand, stroking Hector’s cock feverishly.

“Achilles!” Hector shuddered before repeating his name like a mantra. “Achilles, oh gods Achilles…” That was possibly the best way his name had ever been said, absolutely drenched with lust. Achilles shuddered and took Hector harder, speeding his thrusts into that beautiful, grasping heat. Could this possibly get any better?

Then, miraculously, it did. Hector went still and tense, those grasping walls around his cock going tight around him. Achilles felt the cock in his hand throb before erupting, semen coating his hand and splashing against Hector’s chest. The tight, velvety grip around his cock quivered and trembled and Achilles couldn’t have held back if he’d wanted to. Pleasure rolled over him as he spent himself, gasping at the intensity of the moment.

As he bathed in the afterglow, Achilles held the limp Hector to his chest, burying his face in his hair. Still so very soft and it had a pleasant scent, gently teasing his nose.

“How do you smell so good?” Achilles asked, feeling drunk on more than wine.

“I smell good? Andromache said I always smelled like horses,” Hector murmured and Achilles thought she was right. Hector did have a rather horse-like quality. He thought it was nice though, a very warm, pleasant scent. “She didn’t mind it but she didn’t love it.”

“Well, she was a woman. They likely favor flowers,” Achilles said and Hector laughed, a soft, warm chuckle. “Does Paris wear perfume?”

“How did you know?” Hector said, merriment in his voice. Then he was pulling away with a soft groan and Achilles let him, their bodies parting with a squelch. “Mmm, the rags,” Hector murmured before searching around for them. He quickly found them and began cleaning himself as Achilles lay back, his eyes heavy lidded as he watched his partner. It was oddly arousing, watching Hector clean away the spilled cum.

The rags were dropped carelessly to the floor – they’d have to be cleaned but that was for tomorrow – and Hector joined him in the fleeces.

“I like it when it’s like this,” Hector murmured very softly and Achilles thought he was talking to himself. Reaching out, he gently cupped Hector’s cheek and brown eyes flickered up to meet his. There was a fragile uncertainty there, that echo of fear. Achilles drew him into a kiss and this time he let it be gentle and sweet. Somehow, that suited the moment. When they parted the fear was mostly gone, although there was still a shadow of it. But then, there would be.

That shadow would likely never go away.

* * *

 

The next day, Achilles did put Hector to work.

First, he made it clear to the Myrmidons that Hector’s orders were to be immediately obeyed. Then he set the man to handling Nestor, taking over from Odysseus. Odysseus was most grateful for the reprieve and Achilles had hopes that things would soon be running at least a bit more smoothly.

By the end of the week, Achilles had some real proof that they were. Hector was doing a very good job getting Nestor off his dead ass and the supplies fully organized. He also seemed happier, with useful things to do. Hector might enjoy sleeping and lazing around, but no one could sleep all day.

In the evening, Hector listened to stories and told his own. They were always amusing and often featured Paris in some way. Achilles was sure most of them just found them funny but as he listened, Achilles began to form an interesting picture in his mind. It might be cruel to mention it but then, he sometimes enjoyed being cruel.

Before he could bring it up, though, something extremely interesting happened.

Achilles woke in the middle of the night to the sound of quiet yet very heated whispers. For a moment, his confused mind couldn’t piece together what was happening. Lifting his head, he blinked as he realized there was a third person in the tent. Achilles frowned and tensed before listening intently.

“…Just go home!” Hector hissed, his tone extremely agitated. Then the second voice replied, just as upset.

“Not without you!” …Was that Paris? But how could the pampered prince have gotten through his sentries? Not that camp security was perfect but that was still impressive. “Hector, please, let me kill him for you.” Oh really.

“If you do that I will kill you myself.” Hector’s harsh whisper was cold as ice and Achilles had no doubt he meant it. “My honor would demand no less. Go home Paris.”

“I – I can’t,” Paris sounded choked now. “Your son, he cries for you. Andromache, the look on her face when she… I can’t leave you to this Hector, I can’t!” Achilles was fairly sure he understood what was going through Paris’ mind now. Although there was likely a selfish slant to it. Everything Paris did was about Paris.

“You must. This is a sacred vow,” Hector’s whisper was exasperated. Achilles decided he’d heard enough.

The next few moments were painful for Paris. Achilles took him by surprised and after a bit of wrestling, had him pinned.

“Achilles, don’t kill him!” Hector’s voice was very urgent and Achilles shook his head, not taking his gaze from Paris.

“I hadn’t planned on it,” he said absently as he studied the second Trojan prince. By any objective measure, Paris was far handsomer than Hector. Hector’s face was pleasant and well-formed, but Paris was stunning. His bone structure was fine and perfectly symmetrical. His jaw had the perfect amount of strength, his lips were full. Dark brown eyes, nearly black, met his and the determination in them seemed unbending. “Kill me, hmm? Do you really think you could?”

“You didn’t wake up. If Hector hadn’t woken…” Oh really. Achilles lips skinned back from his teeth in a tight grin.

“So you’re a backstabber as well as a thief? How flattering for a soon to be King,” Achilles taunted and saw Paris flinch, just a bit. “Did the guilt get to you?” Achilles felt sure that was it. Oh, Paris had had his moment of realization at the peace talks. But then, he’d been faced with the reality of Hector’s wife and baby. How had Andromache wept when she’d learned of Hector’s fate? Paris glared at him.

“Let Hector go. You have plenty of pretty boys to entertain you,” Paris spat and Achilles shook his head.

“They could never entertain me like Hector does. You could never entertain me like Hector does,” Achilles said casually before going in for the kill. He’d planned to tax Hector with this but it would be even better on Paris. “Hector loves to tell stories, I’m sure you know that. I’ve noticed that in every story that involves women, they start with him but end up with you. I wonder, do you take them away from him because it’s the only thing you can take?” Paris’ eyes widened and his expression became shocked. “Does Hector have any idea how much you resent him?”

“Achilles! It wasn’t like that at all,” Hector snapped and Achilles glanced at him, seeing he was glaring. Achilles was sure he meant it and he almost pitied the poor fool.

“But it was. You just can’t see,” he said before turning his gaze back to Paris. “Hector just accepted it. To you, I have no doubt he laughed it off, saying that women are fickle creatures. Did that frustrate you?” Although Paris had managed to damage Hector, with his little games. Hector’s lack of confidence in his attractiveness was directly due to his brother, Achilles was sure.

“Stop it! Just do what you’re going to do!” Paris burst out and Achilles decided to tease him a bit more. Bending close he took a deep breath of Paris scent. He had to pull back quickly as the prince tried to bite him.

“You do smell like flowers. I prefer horses,” he said and heard Hector’s shaking breath. Glancing at his slave, he saw measured fear in his eyes. Oh, fear for Paris. Did Hector worry he was thinking of making a harem? Well, given Paris beauty the concern made sense. But he wasn’t interested. “What do you think I should do with him?” He asked and saw Hector blink. Then Hector looked at his brother and Achilles could feel the cogwheels of his mind turning.

“If you want to be generous, ransom him for that horse of his, the lovely palomino mare,” Hector said and Paris’ breath caught with indignation. “If you want to be unkind, ransom him for gold. We can’t afford it but father will dig it up from somewhere.”

“Hector! He can’t ransom me for my own horse! That’s beyond humiliating!” Paris whispered harshly. To Achilles amusement, Hector was extremely unsympathetic.

“Good, you deserve it,” he said and Achilles laughed. Then he yanked Paris around, onto his belly.

“Hector, get me the ropes.” He had ropes in his tent, meant for, well, various things. Hector obeyed and soon Achilles was tying Paris up. The prince tried to get free several times but it was futile, particularly when Hector helped hold him in place. Then Achilles went to call for the sentries, making a mental note to give them all a tongue lashing in the morning. For now, though, he’d just get Paris put away.

When Paris was dragged away, Achilles settled back into the tent. Hector had a bit to say.

“That little idiot. Trying to bring down the wrath of our own gods! Has he no sense?” Hector muttered and Achilles nodded. “I’m sure you’re right, the guilt got to him. Or perhaps the disapproval of our allies. Heh,” Hector suddenly chuckled and Achilles quirked an eyebrow at him. “This might actually help his position with them. It will make them doubt what they saw at the peace conference.”

“He still won’t be a good King,” Achilles said and Hector was still for a moment before nodding, anguish flashing through warm brown eyes. “Hopefully he picks good advisors.”

“We can hope,” Hector sighed before rubbing his face. “So tired.” He was exhausted too. Achilles settled into the fleeces and Hector took his place beside him. Despite his tiredness, though, it was difficult to sleep. Too much excitement.

After a while, though, his mind calmed and he gradually drifted away.


End file.
